Yell at Me
by Younger Dr. Grey
Summary: When they were kids, Danny came up with this game where they were supposed to keep getting louder. No matter what anyone said, you kept yelling. But the more they played, the more Lacey started to feel like she was exploding, like that was exactly what Danny wanted her to do. Danny/Lacey.


"Do you want to yell at me?" Danny asked. Lacey stifled a scoff at the question. Danny loved to make it sound like she had a choice, like he didn't pioneer situations to get reactions out of her. She knew what he was doing. He'd done it before.

When Lacey's dad first started spending weeks away from home, she wouldn't talk about it. So, Danny came up with this game where they were supposed to keep getting louder. No matter what anyone said, you kept yelling. But, the more they played, the more Lacey started to feel like she was exploding. Screaming until her throat ached and her muscles locked and her knees buckled so she fell on the ground in Danny's backyard.

Sometimes, she still felt like that with him, five years later. Danny loved getting a rise out of her. Breaking her. Well, she wasn't about to let him do it again.

"I want to solve this case, not yell at you," she said as she pulled her arms tight around her chest. Danny watched her, and she could practically hear him judging her. Coaxing her.

The slightest of smirks nestled into the corner of his lips. He rose a hand to wipe it away, but even the brush of his fingers against his chin read smug to her. Danny acted like he knew Lacey. Like he even had the chance to know who she really was when all he focused on was getting her alone long enough to fuck her.

That's what he wanted, wasn't it? That's why his eyes went to her lips before he spoke, why he joined the soccer team and took every opportunity to drive a wedge between her and Archie. He didn't want a friend or answers. He wanted a fuck buddy. He wanted her riled up so she wouldn't think too much when he made a move.

"I think you want to do both," he said. "So go on." Danny took a step back and raised his arms into the air like a target. Lacey pulled herself in tighter. He lowered his voice, deepened it so every word he said registered somewhere much lower than her brain. "Yell. Scream. Hit me. Do whatever it takes to get your emotions out because they're gonna kill you, Lacey."

The words slipped out before she could stop them. "Like you killed your aunt?" Her eyes widened, and she dropped them to the floor, but not before seeing that same smirk pop up on Danny's lips.

"I deserve that."

He deserved a lot more than that. Danny deserved to be reminded of what he did. He even deserved to be yelled at because what was he thinking when he decided to criminally fuck up at eleven years old? What was he thinking now?

She uncrossed her arms. "Yeah, you do. Do you have any idea how much you messed up? I know you might not comprehend it, but it wasn't just a friendship or two you destroyed. And that was before you left. Now, you're back and you're doing it all over again."

He cocked his head to the side. He taunted her, "Am I?"

"Yes!" She tensed her jaw. Forced herself to breathe. She repeated herself, quieter, "Yes." She met his eye, and he seemed almost happy. "You can't keep popping up in my life like this. You can't look at me like you want me and mess with my boyfriend and kiss me—"

"You kissed me."

"I know!" Another breath. Count to ten. She tried again. "I know I did, and I was stupid to do that. I fed into what you wanted. I lost control, but I can't do that, Danny. I can't fight with you, or talk with you, or do more than this case because I am not losing my life again."

Danny chuckled. "Wow, now who's the victim, Lace?"

"Seriously?!" Lacey's arms flew into the air. She tugged at her hair and shook her head. Fuck him. She stepped away, letting the grass of the soccer field squish beneath her boots like his head should have been doing. He did not just call her a victim. She didn't play that card. She didn't let people feel pity for her. There was no pity for Lacey Porter. There never was. And if she ever was a victim, it was because of him! Because he got selfish and killed his aunt and took away everything good in her life!

Danny was closer than she remembered when he started speaking again. Close enough where he could reach out his hand towards her and she could slap it away from her. He frowned with this almost sympathetic look on his face.

"You can't blame me for everything changing. I didn't hurt everyone."

"You hurt me." Didn't he understand that? He had to. He always understood her before. He had to know that losing him did change everything. "You ruined my life." Her voice cracked slightly, but he didn't miss a beat.

"By what? Giving you space?"

She scoffed. "You gave me plenty of space, Danny." Hallways of space, cafeterias, playgrounds. "You turned me into a pariah, a freak for everyone to stare at. No one knew what to do with me. No one cared enough to figure it out. I had no one to talk to about anything. You were the person I talked to. Do you remember that?" Lacey took a step closer, and her voice shook. "Do you remember when I could finally talk about my dad without crying? I called you. And when I first heard the word divorce, I called you. And guess who I wanted to call when suddenly everyone hated me?" She paused. Let the words click for him. "You fucking abandoned me. So you want me to yell? I can yell, Danny."

She waited for some kind of sign from him, but he wasn't smirking anymore. She couldn't hold his gaze when he tried to catch hers because she couldn't see beyond the tears building in her eyes. She didn't want to cry over this anymore. She fought against them, but that only made her tense up. She felt it, the tightness in her arms, in her jaw, in that aching in the back of her throat that made her feel like she was going to clam up and never be able to do anything again.

She screamed, "Who was I supposed to talk to?" He didn't answer her. He couldn't answer her five years ago, and he still couldn't. She stomped forward, her hands rising to push at his shoulders. He didn't even budge. "Who, Danny? Who was there for me?" And her tears started breaking through. She swiped at them and shook her head. She gulped through them. She glared at him. "I needed you!"

"I'm sorry," he said.

She screamed, "No, you're not!" She shoved at him again. "You are not sorry for killing Tara. Or-or for what happened to Regina." Another sob fought against her throat, and she let a few tears fall so that she could see enough to meet his eyes. "Regina helped me more than anyone after you left. She made me feel normal and gave me someone to connect with. She was everything to me. And you don't even care that she's dead! You don't care what happened to her, or why. You only care about yourself." She pushed again.

He tried to catch her hands, but she yanked them back. "Lacey—"

"Shut up!" He reached for her, and she scrambled back further. Her feet clambered, sliding on the grass so she had to catch herself. But she did it. She caught herself. That's what she had to do. That's what she did then, and that's what she would keep doing. She practically growled, "Don't you dare say you care about me now. I don't need you to care anymore." She sniffled up the running feeling in her nose. Her hand started cramping, so she tapped her fingers against her leg. She didn't need him. Her bottom lip quivered. Her voice got smaller. "I need Regina. I need my best friend back." And her voice grew. "I need five years of my life back. But I do not need you."

Lacey couldn't breathe. Her throat tightened more. He moved in again, but she kept moving back. She stumbled further. She yelled, "Stop touching me! Stop kissing me, and looking at me, and wanting me. I don't want you! I don't want to want you, Danny." The sobs got stronger, pushing at her insides and making it impossible to breathe. She bent over, but there was nothing to hold onto. Nothing to ground her.

She felt him step in even as her eyes focused on the ground.

"Lacey." She shook her head. "Lacey, let me help."

Her voice scratched through her throat. "No." She forced herself to look over to him. "I don't need you."

Danny's eyes softened. "Yeah, you do." No. His voice got softer. "And I'm sorry." He wasn't. He reached out, and she couldn't move. "I'm sorry." He held out his hand, hesitating, before cupping her chin. He turned her face to be level with his. He stepped in with word. "I. Am. Sorry." He dropped his hand, tilted his head, whispered, "I need you too, Lace."

And then she broke. The sobs kept coming, and she was in his arms before she thought about it. He lowered them to the ground so she could curl up against his chest. He kept telling her, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She told herself this didn't mean anything. She went years without him. She didn't need him. She just didn't know what to do without him. She didn't want to know. Not again.


End file.
